


Musca

by Enchantable



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-12 15:14:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19134649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantable/pseuds/Enchantable
Summary: “No ‘ifs’,” Michael says, dropping money onto the counter, “I don’t need you to hold my hand through this because we made the same fucked up decision, Max. That doesn’t mean we’re going to get the same outcome. Thought we established that by now.”Max tries to be a good brother, Liz is a supportive girlfriend and Michael is just trying in a series of loosely connected one shots about three people who love each other very much.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Original Prompt: Jealousy over a budding friendship with Kyle. Malex, please. Or both Echo and Malex at the same time for brother bonding??

“You want to talk?”

Michael grimaces as Max sits next to him. He did not come here for a heart to heart, he came here for food. He definitely wasn’t sulking into his Krispy Crashdown Burger. Arturo pretends to be surprised Max is here, though Michael is damn aware that Max’s shake order takes longer than the ten seconds it takes for it to be put in front of him.

“I got nothing to talk about,” he says, dipping a fry into the shake before Max can say a damn thing about it. Max glares at him and Michael swats him before he can return the favor. Max catches his hand the second time and steals one anyway, “I didn’t say we were sharing,” Michael objects loudly.

Max smiles and then shifts, clearing his throat. Michael rolls his eyes.

“Michael—“

“I thought someone was at the lab today,” he says louder. Max goes sour face, “don’t worry, you your girlfriend can see you’re being a good brother,” he says, shaking his head and turning back to his fries, “you get all the bonus points.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” Max protests. Michael rolls his eyes, “it’s not the only reason I’m here,” he corrects.

“We’re not all like you, Maxwell House,” he drawls. Max sours. The nickname is as much an insult as an endearment.

“You mean sitting in the Crashdown Cafe moping over someone spending all their time with Valenti?” He says and it’s Michael’s turn to glare. This is not a comparison he needs right now. “Valenti’s not into men,” Max begins.

“I know Valenti’s straight!” Michael says, glaring at Max. Max looks at him blankly and Michael wonders how he was the one who got adopted. Immediately guilt punches him. That’s not something he ever wants to wonder about. “Valenti told him.”

Max doesn’t need to ask what that is, thankfully. Michael would be lying if he didn’t say he was jealous about that. He doesn’t care that Alex is spending time with another dude, or that in the midst of avoiding him he’s found other people to be friends with. Michael knows the futility of clinging to thinks or people like that. But all the ways that he planned on telling Alex, all the synonyms he looked up for ‘Alien’ and Kyle fucking Valenti is the one who tells him. It’s another disappointment, the theme of his relationship with Alex. He doesn’t know why this one hurts any more than the other stupid plans he dreamed about. He picks up a fry and drops it. Probably not going to go down anyway past the tightness in his throat.

“It sucks,” Max says finally, his voice low. “It doesn’t make you feel better, not really. We still lied for years. There’s no good reaction.”

“He said he needed time,” Michael admits finally, then laughs, “more time than the months he’s known.” He glances over just to confirm that Max is wide eyed at that revelation. “Yup,” he says, popping the ‘p’ for extra emphasis.

“Okay,” Max says, “If—“

“No ‘ifs’,” Michael says, dropping money onto the counter, “I don’t need you to hold my hand through this because we made the same fucked up decision, Max. That doesn’t mean we’re going to get the same outcome. Thought we established that by now.”

He ignores the look on Max’s face. It’s a cheap shot but at the moment it’s all he’s got. He needs to get out of there. Before he says more dumb shit. What he doesn’t bargain on is Max’s hand settling on his shoulder. He tries to shrug him off but Max grips his shirt. He’s usually the one who uses his powers. But Max holds him like he hasn’t in a really long time. Instead of doing what he should do, he finds himself sitting there, refusing to meet Max’s eyes. He doesn’t want to have this conversation and at the same time he desperately does.

“You’re right,” Max says, “we don’t get the same outcomes,” Michael glances away. How is Max the literary nerd, “but we’re not kids anymore. We’re not hiding things. We lied, we can’t change that. But it doesn’t mean we have to keep the same cycle going. An eye for an eye—“

“You are not quoting Ghandi to me,” Michael cuts in. Max sighs, but squeezes his shoulder before he drops his hand.

“Want me to talk to Alex?”

“No!” Michael says, “we agreed to stay out of each others relationships,” he reminds him.

“Want me to talk to Alex?” Liz offers, finally popping up from behind the window. 

“No! No-one is talking to Alex,” Michael says, “this conversation never happened,” he adds for good measure. He can’t control Liz, if he’s being honest he cannot control Max either. But he’s got a better shot at one of them. “Do not go big brother on him, Maxwell House, I mean it.”

Max raises his hands.  Somehow that doesn’t make Michael feel better. They both turn towards Liz whose going back and forth between them.

“Are you? The oldest one?” She asks.

“No,” he says at the same time Max says he is, “we don’t even know we’re brothers.”

“We are,” Max says and gives him the look Michael ignores, “now that Alex knows—“

“I’m with Michael,” Liz says, “you can’t go big brother on him.”

Michael grins smugly before glaring when she steals a fry. She dips it into Max’s shake to be fair but he doesn’t look nearly as perturbed. The last thing Michael wants to do is watch them get all lovely dovey while his own decades long thing has been set on fire. By him, but that doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change the jealousy he feels.

“Being the one to tell him wouldn’t change things,” Liz continues, “Alex hates surprises. I’ve never seen him react well to one.”

Michael thinks back to the toolshed and his hand itches. He can think of a very good reason Alex hates surprises.

“He can join the club,” he mutters.

“The situation just sucks,” Liz continues, “but I’m sorry it didn’t go how you wanted it to.”

Michael shrugs. He’s not sure why she’s giving him sympathy instead of jumping to Max’s defense. But maybe, he thinks, she can keep him from going after Alex in some belated attempt at showing brotherly love.

“But,” she continues, “the last thing you guys need is secrets. Building a relationship on secrets never works out.”

“Yeah, it also doesn’t work out if the person isn’t there,” he says. If it comes out as a swipe to her she doesn’t react.

“Well that’s an easy fix,” she says with a shrug.

The bell chimes before Michael can ask what she means. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: Anthing else max/liz

“I need to ask you something,” Max says, “non-out of this world related.”

He looks nervous and Liz wonders what’s going on. Not huge alien nervous but nervous in a way that makes him look much smaller than he is. She reaches out and grasps his hand, smiling gently to try and show she’s here for him. His lips quirk up before he looks at the table.

“How did you know Rosa was bi?” He asks. Her eyes widen, “sorry,” he says quickly, “I just—“

“No, It’s okay,” Liz says quickly, squeezing his hand. Rosa never comes up. Her death does occasionally but not her. “She told me.”

Max nods and his cheeks start to turn pink.

“Michael told me,” he says, “I, uh, I thought he was gay. I know he’s slept with girls but—“ he shakes his head, “look I want to support him but I keep sticking my foot in my mouth about it. Your sister was, so I was hoping you could—“

“Share tips on having a bisexual sibling?” She finishes, giving one of those smiles he swears he can feel down to his toes. He shrugs helplessly and she chuckles, “I don’t think there’s a road map for it. I said the wrong thing plenty of times.”

Max nods and tries not to look disappointed. Liz wishes there was an easy fix for it. Unfortunately there isn’t. Unless—

“Hang on,” she says, getting up and running into the back. In her dad’s office there’s a stash of books. She knows the one she’s looking for. It’s hidden behind a false cover that labels it a bird watching manual. She comes back and sits next to Max instead of across from him, “here.”

“Birds of North America?” He says.

“How did you keep that secret for twenty years?” She wonders aloud, peeling off the cover to show him the one underneath, “my dad got it, when he thought that was why Rosa was pulling away.”

Max smiles tightly and sadly.

“That happened a long time ago,” he says.

“So then pull him back.”

They both turn to see Arturo standing there. He looks at the book and the pair of them. Liz feels Max tense and almost smiles at the fact that he wants to stand up to greet her father. Like he hasn’t been coming in for years to check up on her in the only way he can. Arturo stands there and looks down at the book, something unreadable in his eyes. But when he looks up they’re serious.

  
“I’m no one to give advice but you’ll mess up. You have to keep trying,” he clears his throat, “I highlighted some of the pages. Stuff I thought was important to remember. Maybe it can help you.”

“Thank you. Sir.,” Max says. Liz’s smile vanishes as her father gets that look, “uh—“

“No no I like the Sir thing,” he says, “saves me from having to show you where I keep my special spices,” he adds, winking at Liz.

Max looks a bit shell shocked. Liz squeezes his knee which immediately refocuses him on her. Which, okay, she might kind of like. But she also likes that Max is trying to come to her with non alien things. It’s not as terrifying as she thought it would be. Just slightly scary which she pushes aside to focus on his kind, nervous face.

“I can do this one thing for him,” he says.

“Of course you can,” Liz tells him, like he’s not spectacular in fucking things like this up, “just listen to him,” she continues, “this isn’t one size fits all.”

The next day he’s back and looks even more distraught. The book is in his hands and it’s got an alarming number of flags a well. Liz comes over as he sits at the counter.

“Isobel is too.”

“Is what?” She asks.

“Bisexual. Not just because of the whole other thing,” he swallows, “She told me,” he grips the book like it’s a lifeline, “I’ve been screwing it up with both of them this whole time.”

Liz smiles sympathetically and Max’s face falls even more. Quickly she comes around and sits next to him again, making him focus on her instead of how badly he’s messed up by pressing their thighs together. He looks at her like she planned, hunching his shoulders miserably. Liz reaches up and pushes her hand through his dark waves. He closes his eyes for a moment and given the shadows under them, she thinks it might be the first time he’s done that in days.

“I think you’re being a good brother, trying to figure this out,” she says, “respecting this part of them is a big deal around here, even if it shouldn’t be.”

Something dark and pained echos in his eyes. She wonders if he’s thinking of how everyone was in high school to Alex or just the little things that happen every day he probably never thought much about. Sometimes she wonders what it would be like to be a straight white guy. But Max probably wonders that too. She runs her fingers though his hair again.

“What about you?” She asks, “are you bi?”

“No,” he says, but while the n starts out with the voice of a sixteen year old idiot jock, by the time the o comes out it’s much softer. He clears his throat, “no,” he says, “just in love with you.”

She smiles and his gaze goes from tortured or embarrassed to pleased.

“Good answer,” She says, “though you know dating someone of the opposite gender doesn’t make you less bisexual.”

“That I got,” He says, “Michael’s slept with a lot of girls and Isobel,” he winces, “That’s more complicated,” he looks at her, “this doesn’t seem like a big deal in the scheme of things but it’s—i want to do it right.”

“I think it is a big deal,” Liz says, “and you will,” she glances over his shoulder, “look. You’ve got your shot.”

Michael steps in looking like a bad hangover and winces when Liz drops her hand.

“Can i sit or is the petting going to continue?” He says.

“I have two hands, I could pet you too,” she offers cheekily. Michael balks, “i’m kidding. I’d get stuck in those curls.”

“Your girlfriend’s being mean,” he says to Max, but sits only one seat over which Max will take as a victory. Michael looks at him, “jesus what happened to you? You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“My fault,” Liz volunteers impulsively Max turns to look at her, “and i am going to go think about what i did. Long and hard—“

“Don’t do that,” Michael says, something pleading in his voice, “long hard and him are not things i want to hear in the same sentence.”

Liz goes, tucking the book against her chest as she does. Max looks like he wants to call her back but she goes. After a moment he squares up and shifts over another seat so they’re sitting together. Michael makes a noise and picks up a menu. But he doesn’t move away.

It’s a start.


	3. Season 2 follow up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex being very protective of Michael regarding Max and/or Isobel.

“Michael please,” Max barely recognizes his own voice, “I’m so sorry.”

Michael will not look at him.

Max doesn’t know what happened, he was dead after all. But something in Michael is fundamentally broken. It’s not like he’s ever seen. Michael won’t—or can’t—look at him, but Max would have to be blind not to notice the red of his eyes and the paleness of his skin. He looks at Isobel. She presses her lips together and moves towards him. Max swears he hears his own heart break when Michael moves away from her too.

“Michael,” She begins, “it’s okay. Max is back now.”

Michael doesn’t look at him and doesn’t speak to her. His sister’s justifiable anger makes her patience thin. From what Max can piece together, her anger and Liz’s heartbreak have matched whatever is going on with Michael. Some part of him wants to demand why they didn’t step up, but the hypocrisy is too much even for him. He pulled the plug on this, he put them in this position. Rosa makes a noise of disgust at the exchange and he remembers she is here too. He forgot. Apparently though, she is not alone.

Alex crosses over to Michael in several quick steps and though the look on Michael’s face doesn’t ease, Alex bypasses it to come near him. Michael barely reacts as Alex scans his face. He reaches out slowly and doesn’t actually make contact until Michael, after a moment, reaches back for him. Michael wraps his fingers in his jacket. They don’t speak. But Alex doesn’t look alarmed at Michael’s silence. Max gets the distinct impression words are not necessary at the moment.

“Come on,” Alex says.

“Wait—“ Max opens his mouth.

Alex is a trained solider, Max knows he should be nervous around him but up until this moment he can’t say he ever has been. The look on his face is completely bone chilling. He looks more like his father than Max has ever seen him, but there’s none of it directed at Michael. The hand that’s on his back is so gentle Max is surprised it’s making contact. Michael is in as much control of the situation as he can bare to be in. He needs Alex there, Max realizes. And Alex knows it. He didn’t figure out Michael needed him until too late, somehow Alex has pulled off being there before Michael’s walls go up.

“Michael,” he starts.

“I’m ready to go,” Michael says quietly.

“Okay,” Alex tells him. He focuses on Isobel, “I’ll get him home,” he looks at Max, “this isn’t the time.”

Something in the way Alex says it makes him pause. Or maybe it’s the fact that Alex’s hand has moved up to the nape of Michael’s neck and his thumb is drawing circles there. It’s a disconnect to hear his voice so sharp and see him touching Michael so gently. But he seems to be the only one who doesn’t see this as perfectly normal. At least when it comes to Alex. Even Rosa apparently feels okay calling him. So Max swallows his pride and nods.

“I’ll be here when he’s ready,” he says. Michael winces and Alex follows as he leaves the room.

Max watches through the window as they head to the car. He watches as Michael braces his hands against it, but no tremors come. No violent outbursts of power. It’s just him and Alex standing there. Eventually his grip goes from the car to an infinitely more gentle one around Alex’s elbows. Michael isn’t someone he would immediately associate with gentle, not anymore at least. Not for a long time. But he is gentle and Alex is equally so with him. It hurts to see Michael depend on someone so openly, but at the same time Max feels proud of him for letting himself get to this point.

Finally they untangle from each other and it’s another shock when Michael gets into the passenger side. Michael hates letting other people drive. But he slides in and lets Alex come around to the drivers side. It’s hard to see through the window and the window in the car, but he thinks he sees Alex grab Michael’s hand and press a kiss to the back of his knuckles. Has Alex always been the one who is allowed to touch Michael’s hand? A thousand questions seem to come up as he watches Alex pull out of the driveway and onto the road.

“How long?” He asks looking at Isobel.

“Since High School, Max,” she says, “keep up.”


End file.
